


One Thousand Needles

by Nixxi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cactuars, Flash Fic, Gladio Becomes a Pincushion, M/M, Rated T for Butts, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixxi/pseuds/Nixxi
Summary: “So,” Noct says as he hands the bucket over to Ignis, “did you fix Gladio’s ass?”In the heat of battle, Gladio is injured by a barrage of cactuar spines. It falls to Ignis to remove them. REPOST.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 102





	One Thousand Needles

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look! I found some more old fics I deleted and forgot I'd even written. This one was for a writing prompt way back in early 2018 and is based on [this piece of art](https://ruiojousama.tumblr.com/post/168387196513/day-6-prompt-for-gladnisweek-battle-wounds) by ruiojousama.

As darkness falls, they hurry toward the rune stones glowing in the distance. Prompto and Noctis half carry Gladio between them, almost dragging him across the grassy plain, while Ignis lights their way with his torch. They’ve been walking for nearly two hours, pausing every fifteen minutes to give Gladio some time to rest, bent face-first over a stone or a log. It was supposed to be an easy hunt; that was why they left their first aid kit back at camp, thinking they’d be well provisioned with a handful of potions. 

None of them expected it to go so wrong.

 _We should have been more prepared_ , Ignis thinks as he climbs up onto the haven plateau where they’ve been camping for the past three nights. _After all, when do hunts ever go according to plan?_

“Prompto, please spread out the sleeping bags next to the fire pit,” Ignis says, pulling out the first aid kit from under their camping table, “then help Noct lay Gladio down on his front.”

“You got it, Igster.”

“And fetch me the lantern from the tent, won’t you?” Ignis rummages through the kit and brings out the heavy-duty tweezers. "I’ll need some light for this.”

Prompto retrieves the requested items, and Ignis gets the fire going as Prompto and Noctis ease Gladio belly-down onto the sleeping bags. To his credit, Gladio doesn’t make a sound, not even a whimper, though his face is screwed up with pain. If it weren’t for that, Ignis might have allowed himself a quiet chuckle at Gladio’s predicament. They really shouldn’t have underestimated that cactuar.

“Noct,” Ignis says, pointing the tweezers at his king, “I’ll need some water for our supper. Will you go down to the river with Prompto and fetch some?” When Noct nods and moves to step off the haven, Ignis adds, “But take care not to run into any daemons, please, and hurry back.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be careful, Specs, don’t worry,” he says, and he and Prompto disappear into the darkness beyond the haven.

Ignis turns back to Gladio, studying the half-dozen thick spines buried in his thighs and rear end. There were more, at first, though the three of them managed to remove most of the needles embedded in his back. The thin fabric of his tank top yielded them easily enough, but the leather of his pants was another matter. Those were firmly lodged, impossible to remove with their bare hands. Ignis briefly debated fetching the Regalia and driving him back to camp, but that presented another problem: Gladio wouldn’t be able to sit with all those spines protruding from his bottom. In the end, he had no choice but to limp back to the haven.

“How are you doing?” Ignis murmurs as he grasps the shaft of one spine with the tweezers.

“Surviving,” Gladio says through gritted teeth, “but it hurts like hell, so get on with it already.”

“There are just six left,” Ignis says soothingly. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.”

Without waiting for Gladio to respond, he tugs. After a bit of resistance, the needle comes free from Gladio’s thigh, glistening with blood in the firelight. Ignis tosses it aside and moves on to the next one, wincing in sympathy every time Gladio gives a pained grunt. The ones buried in his rump are a little more difficult to dislodge, but Ignis slowly, gently wiggles them loose and wraps all six needles in a handkerchief. He’ll dispose of those later.

“All gone,” he says softly, giving Gladio’s bicep a squeeze. “Are you able to help me get your pants down? I need to disinfect the wounds.”

Wordlessly, Gladio nods and raises his hips, and Ignis reaches under him to unbuckle his belt. He tugs Gladio’s pants and underwear down around his knees, just far enough to assess the bloody punctures in his skin. Each of them is inflamed; a few of them still well with blood. All look painful.

Ignis gives the rounded meat of one cheek a reassuring pat before he turns again to his first aid kit and retrieves antiseptic wipes, a tube of ointment, and a potion.

“The potion isn’t strong enough to heal the wounds entirely,” he says, ripping open the pack of towelettes, “but the disinfectant will help things along. This may sting a bit.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Gladio murmurs into the sleeping bag under him. “Sorry you have to deal with this.”

Ignis smiles and rubs down Gladio’s buttocks and thighs with the wipes, mopping up the congealed blood. “That’s quite all right. Certainly better than losing an arm or taking a gut wound, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah,” Gladio grunts. “You know, when it comes to you and me, this ain’t exactly the ass handling I had in mind.”

“I suppose there’s a certain irony to the situation,” Ignis admits. He squeezes a dollop of ointment onto his fingers and begins to massage it into Gladio’s skin. “But there is a silver lining. Now you know better than to stand in a cactuar’s firing range.”

“Hey, I was protecting Noct.”

“True,” Ignis says, smiling again, “and I’d much rather remove needles from your behind than his.”

He administers the last of the ointment and the potion, then gives Gladio’s bottom one final pat before rising. They don’t often have the privacy to do much beyond kissing these days, and as tempting as it is to act on Gladio’s current state of undress, he can hear Noct and Prompto’s voices now, coming ever closer. Besides, Gladio is likely still sore and would prefer to rest. 

So he busies himself with putting away their first aid supplies and tucking the needles somewhere safe until he can dispose of them in the wilderness. Behind him, Gladio’s clothes rustle and his belt clanks as he makes himself decent. Noct and Prompto arrive, climbing back up onto the haven with a bucket of water between them.

“So,” Noct says as he hands it over to Ignis, “did you fix Gladio’s ass?”


End file.
